


I'll Keep You Warm

by sirgilbo



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, Dragon Age Secret Santa 2015, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirgilbo/pseuds/sirgilbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snow storm is brewing, and Dorian decides he needs help from the last person he wants to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Keep You Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeriPeriwinkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriPeriwinkle/gifts).



> My gift for @LyaGobetti for Secret Santa! I had a lot of fun writing these two together, but it HURT MY HEART. I've actually never written fic for Dragon Age in my life, so I really hope that this turned out okay!

Fluffy snowflakes piled up on the cold pavement outside the tattoo parlor, accumulating to cover the ground with a thin layer of white. It was still rather early in the day, but winter was cruel and deceiving. Dorian’s eyes wandered over to the clock on the wall, sighing briefly before pulling out his phone to distract himself. It had been a slow day at the shop, and he could hear Cole already start to clean the front for the night. They still had a couple hours left of the shift, but there weren’t any more scheduled clients. Honestly, Dorian wasn’t in the mood to really see any walk-ins either. Nothing worth his attention on his phone. He rolled his eyes with a scoff, irritated that he didn’t even have a single request for his attention to even ignore. The snow picked up more, becoming dense rather than feathery, and an inch already collected on the pavement. Dorian didn’t necessarily mind walking home in the snow, but a ride home would be appreciated. 

Well, he did know one guy who had a rather sizable car, but he wasn’t sure about actually getting in touch with him again just to get a ride home from work. He pulled open his contacts list, idly chewing on his lower lip as he found his name. That ridiculous name. The guy worked just down the street, and if he recalled, he would be getting off of work soon. Dorian hadn’t heard from him in a couple of weeks now, and things didn’t exactly end well. The mage’s thumb pressed on his contact and pulled up an empty message bar. Well, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Afterall, the brute was the one who said to get a hold of him if he needed anything, and this was important. After releasing a sigh, Dorian situated himself better on the stool by the front counter of the shop and let his thumbs type out just a simple message to at least get the conversation started. 

“Hello-”

No, that wouldn’t do.

“Hey, are you busy?”

Too informal, but a little better. Dorian deleted the text a couple of times before finally sending the question. Cole appeared in front of the counter seemingly out of nowhere, and waved at his boss with a dull look. His eyes drooped to the floor before slowly meeting Dorian’s face, and he tilted his head to the side as if he discovered something interesting.

“You’re talking to The Iron Bull,” Cole stated quietly, almost hesitantly. Dorian always hated when he did The Thing to him, and he told him multiple times to cut it out. “Missed his touch, the way his gaze looked so soft yet body so hard-”

“Stop it,” Dorian furrowed his brows and waved him off dismissively. A headache started to lightly pound against his forehead. Great. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cole.”  
“Will you?” Cole tilted his head to the side once more, and glanced out the window. “The storm is picking up.” 

“Goodnight, Cole.” 

The younger apprentice turned around and took his leave, the high pitched ring of the small bell atop the door echoed in the empty store. Dorian glanced back down at his phone once Cole turned the corner to head home. A notification popped up, and Dorian raised a perfectly arched brow. Maybe he would get that ride home after all. He swiped the message across the screen and looked at the popped up message, his heartbeat quickening. 

“need a ride home?”

How the hell did he know that? Dorian scoffed at the response, but knew that if he wanted to avoid a cold walk home, he’d have to answer. 

“actually yes. are you done at the shop?”

It didn’t take long for another response. He must have been ready to go then. 

“Yeah, omw there.”

Dorian tucked his phone neatly in the pocket of his distressed jeans and pulled on his black and gold trimmed coat. It fit his form well, and he recalled the brutish qunari making note of that the last time they saw each other. He sighed and wrapped his scarf around his neck and pulled on his leather gloves. He grabbed his keys from his pocket, and absently looked at the mirror on the wall, checking his face for anything out of place. Nope, perfect, as always, but he briefly scolded himself for even caring about how he appeared to him. With a huff, he stepped outside and locked the door up behind him. The cool air hit his face harshly as giant snowflakes danced around him and rested on his shoulder and hair. He brushed off his shoulders before going under the awning of the store and tucked the keys away securely. How long had it actually been since he last talked to him? In their message log, Dorian noticed a few ignored messages from him trying to get his attention, but even still, those were from weeks ago. His mind wandered back to the last night he saw him, and the fight that broke out. There was no reason to dwell on it any longer.

Bright headlights illuminated the dark street causing Dorian to perk up. The familiar roar of the engine alerted the mage, and he knew it was his ride. He pushed himself off the brick wall of his tattoo parlor and he took a few steps towards the curb. A large SUV pulled into the empty spot he stood in front of. With a deep breath, Dorian opened up the front door and climbed into the car, immediately grabbing the seat belt and trying not to be the first to say anything. The Iron Bull resided in the driver seat, and Dorian could feel that smug grin plastered on his face. The heavy scent of engine grease, grime and salt of sweat radiated off Bull, and Dorian let out the breath he was holding to take in the oddly pleasant musk.  
“And hello to you too,” Bull snorted as he turned up the heater. Clearly he wasn’t too happy about having to break the ice, but Dorian refused to cave in like that. 

“Thanks for the ride,” The mage responded in turn, resting his chin in the palm of his hand to look out the window. Fluffy snowflakes hit the glass and instantly melted, trickling down and leaving haphazard patterns against the pane. Dorian fixated on those instead of looking over his shoulder towards the qunari. “I’ll compensate you if necessary.” 

Bull frowned, but changed the gear of the SUV to start heading towards Dorian’s apartment without replying. Despite how normal this was for the mage, the ride felt like something completely foreign. A couple of months ago, Dorian always would greet the qunari with a coy smile as they headed back to his place, but that wasn’t the case anymore. The snow picked up as Bull drove, already accumulating a few inches. How troublesome. Dorian frowned as he continued to watch the jagged patterns on the window, his breath fogging the glass as he remained silent. This was a huge mistake. Thankfully the drive wasn’t too long, and Dorian would get out of the car and not speak to him again. It brought back too many memories that he wanted to put behind him. The scenery outside the window was difficult to make out with the downfall of the snow, and Dorian frowned as he checked his phone quietly. A winter storm warning throughout the evening. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and glanced out of the corner of his eye towards the silent qunari. 

“There’s going to be a storm tonight,” Dorian swallowed a lump in the back of his throat, eyes darting away from him immediately. “Feel free to wait at my apartment for the snow to settle before departing.” Even if he didn’t want him to stick around, he couldn’t just endanger him like that, especially since Bull went out of his way to do him a favor. It was merely a polite gesture, but nothing else. The silence in the car felt heavy, almost like a weight pressed down against the mage’s shoulders. Each second that he remained silent made Dorian’s chest tighten and throat dry. Why did he he even care about what he said? 

“Hmm,” Bull narrowed his eye, leaning in a bit to look towards the dark night sky. “Maybe. It’s pretty shitty out here now.” 

A sigh of relief left the mage, and that weight immediately disappeared. At least he said something, and luckily enough, it was pleasant. A couple minutes passed and they finally arrived at Dorian’s apartment complex. It was high end, which suited the spoiled Tevinter mage’s aesthetic, and the bright street lights illuminated the twirling snowflakes whipping through the air. Bull parked the car, but he paused, not immediately taking off his seat belt or even turning off the car. The muted roar of the heater at least created some white noise, but any time it became quiet between the two of them, Dorian felt that tightness creep back into his chest. Things really were different now. 

“Bull?” Dorian raised a brow, looking towards him now. It was obvious to the mage that something was troubling him, but he didn’t know how to address it with him without dredging up the same argument they had weeks ago. Dorian couldn’t do that again. 

“It’s nothing,” The qunari shrugged those large shoulders that Dorian took note of looked somehow bigger. “Let’s get inside before we freeze out here, yeah?” The mage simply nodded in response and opened up the car door. Despite the storm that brewed around them, the night was surprisingly silent save for the crunch of the snow against their boots as they walked together towards his building. Dorian quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door to his apartment, and the warmth pleasantly enveloped them as he walked inside. 

“Take your boots off by the door,” Dorian reminded him as he leaned over, kicking his own off and placing them neatly at the mat near his door. Bull closed the door behind them as he got inside and brushed the snow off his broad shoulders. Dorian’s eyes traced those shoulders again, and he absently started to watch him as he took off his coat and boots. It was absolutely unfair how attractive he was, but Dorian had to tear his eyes away from the qunari and he headed for the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” 

“Yeah, kinda,” Bull followed him into the large kitchen, smirking a little as he sat down at the kitchenette to settle in. His face had a smudge of grease smeared beneath his eyepatch, something Dorian became accustomed to and even found endearing. He sighed shakily, trying not to make a comment about it, and went to look in the fridge for something to eat. There were some left overs he could heat up, or maybe he could make something quick and easy like spaghetti. He grabbed the leftovers for now, but he could feel his stomach tying in knots. This reminded him far too much about how things used to be before their argument. 

Months ago, the qunari had come to his tattoo parlor with a scheduled appointment. It was for a vitaar sleeve that the qunari had given specific details about the design over an email. Dorian had worked exceptionally hard to provide the exact design he wanted. Vitaar was important to the qunari, and something specific to their culture. The mage never worked on something like this before, but the qunari’s requests were surprisingly specific enough for him to work with. Once he finally met him, Dorian couldn’t believe he’d be working on someone that looked like that. He was extremely tall, built like a tank and those horns… Dorian knew he was in trouble. 

“You’re Iron Bull?” Dorian asked as he started to get his ink ready, which was imported vitaar ink. The seller mentioned it was poisonous to anyone not qunari, but luckily Dorian figured out a spell to protect himself from the dangers of it. The perks of being a mage in this business. The qunari sat down in the chair, rolling up the sleeve of his already rather form fitting shirt, and flashed a large grin in his direction. He could feel the heat spread through his face as he stared rather openly at the muscular arm presented to him. The Maker must have blessed him to get a canvas like this. 

“The Iron Bull,” He relaxed back in the chair as Dorian sat closer to him, placing the stencil carefully on his arm. “But you can call me Bull.” 

Dorian raised a brow, trying to seem unimpressed with how casual he was, but internally he couldn’t believe the size of his damn biceps. Now that was impressive. “Well, Bull, are you ready?” 

Hours passed as Dorian concentrated on his art. Whenever he focused on his work, nothing could really break him from the trance, but Bull nearly managed to several times. The mage tried to bring up some random points of conversation to make him comfortable while his arm was being stabbed repeatedly by a tiny needle, but Bull made several interesting remarks. One about how it was kind of cute how he stuck out his tongue a little while he worked, and there was another one about the way his brows furrowed together as he filled in the details. The damn brute was saying all the right things, and Dorian knew he wanted to see him again in a less professional setting. The first session was unfortunately done before Dorian even fully realized all the time that had passed. He inhaled deeply through his nose after he taped the bandages into place, wondering how he should approach this burning question. 

“So, when can I see you again?” 

His hands stopped as the words sank in. Bull had beaten Dorian to the punch, but that was an incredibly satisfying sign. The mage managed to keep his cool, hoping that the blush growing on his face wasn’t obvious and that the qunari didn’t hear his heart thumping audibly. “Your second session has already been scheduled-”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Dorian could feel his heart skip a beat, but he simply smirked in response. Perfect. 

“Give me your number, and maybe I’ll tell you when I’m in the mood.”

“Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be,” The large qunari chuckled, appreciating the response. 

He gave his number, not even bothering to ask Dorian for his since he appeared so confident he’d get a text that night. Well, he wasn’t wrong. The mage contemplated since he finished their session when to text him. If he texted him that night, it could come off as desperate and off-putting, but he couldn’t get the qunari out of his mind. He wanted to see more of that sculpted torso, run his hand across the scruff on his face and grab onto those rough horns. It was almost embarrassing how badly Dorian wanted to explore The Iron Bull and get to know more than just his biceps and charming grin. If he waited one more day, sure, it might look less desperate, but he craved more. Dorian grabbed up his phone once he settled into his apartment.

“you busy?”

Dorian’s heart raced against his ribcage as he waited, leaning back against his imported designer couch and staring at the lofty ceiling. What if he didn’t respond? No, that’d be crazy. Afterall, Bull was the one who asked to see him. He idly picked at his cuticles, a disgusting habit that happened whenever his nerves flared. There was the chance that he was just teasing him. It did seem awfully convenient, anyways. Someone that astonishingly handsome and charming? Dorian knew that he was gorgeous, but a small amount of secret self doubt lingered deep within him. It made Dorian try harder to appear confident, but in moments like this, that ugly uncertainty would wrap its tendrils of negativity around his neck and drag him down into the depths of anxiety. 

That grasp around his frame dissipated as he felt the vibration of his phone against the couch cushion. He snatched the device up immediately, flushing as he noticed the contact name “The Iron Bull” with an eggplant emoji beside it pop up on screen. He swiped the notification across his phone and read over the short message. 

“no. wanna come over?”

Now that was more like it. Dorian’s lips curled up into a knowing smirk, wondering if he was potentially reading too much into this. An invitation over could mean several things, but perhaps for a first encounter, that’d be too fast. He glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen, pondering on holding off a response for a few minutes just in case. He decided since he at least made one daring move tonight, he could oblige to let the question hang in the air for a moment. Dorian wouldn’t dare forget about it. He snatched up his phone as he headed towards his room, debating on what to wear and if bringing an overnight bag would be acceptable or over the top. Maybe he’d keep it casual, not wanting to step over any boundaries right away. Nothing was for certain. The mage observed himself in the full length mirror, tilting his head to search for any imperfections. Nope. Perfect, as always. Bull must have thought so. 

Another buzz from his phone pulled him out of his vain display, and he smirked. It’d been a couple of minutes, which was more than enough time for him to wait. 

“???”

Definitely impatient then. Interesting. 

“you’ll need to give me a ride.”

“i can give you more than that.” 

Oh, feisty.

“then come here instead.”

This back and forth lasted for nearly a half hour before any plans were finalized. Something about playing cat and mouse with someone who embodied beastial strength enticed Dorian further. This would be fun. They settled on Bull meeting at his place since he had a vehicle and it was far easier for him to get there than it was for the mage. Dorian idly tidied up the kitchen as he waited, wondering if he should offer him some wine. The qunari didn’t necessarily strike him as a wine aficionado, but adding class never hurt an evening. A buzz from the doorbell alerted the mage, and he took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool as he pressed the button to allow Bull inside. Once he stepped through the door, ducking his head to angle his horns appropriately through the doorway, Dorian knew that he was ruined. 

“You’re on time,” Dorian mused as he headed towards the kitchen, tearing his eyes away from him before the urge to push him against the wall grew any more. “You must be excited. Oh, shoes off by the door, please.”

Bull snorted in response as he kicked off his boots, setting them down properly like he asked. Dorian’s eyes wandered over his broad torso and the shirt that clung to it to show off his physique. “Should’ve kept you waiting, huh?” He chuckled as he followed him into the kitchen. “But where’s the fun in that.” 

Dorian offered him wine, but Bull asked for beer instead. Called it. 

After a couple of drinks and relaxing on the couch, things moved slowly throughout the evening. Bull leaned in, pleasantly tipsy, and brushed his hand against the mage’s thigh. Dorian absently licked his lips, matching his own posture and leaned closer to the qunari. His body felt comfortably warm as they talked about whatever came to mind. He learned Bull was a mechanic, that he lived with a guy named Krem and that he had some side job that let him travel around frequently. That last bit impressed him tremendously. Dorian sipped on his wine as he listened to him talk, paying close attention to the way his lips moved. The wine caused his focus to wander, his head felt light, but his body was heavy. The mage absently pushed his thigh flush to Bull’s while his shoulder rested against his torso. His warmth beckoned him closer, and he took in the fragrant musk of engine embedded in his clothes. 

“You okay?” Bull raised a brow, concern hidden in his words. 

“More than,” Dorian’s lips curled into a coy smile that was reserved for those who were truly lucky. A flash of lightning illuminated the dimmed room that was only lit by several ambient candles. Bull smirked as he tucked a large finger under the mage’s chin and raised it slightly so his eye could meet his face. Hooded eyes studied the qunari’s features closely, secretly admiring the crookedness of his nose, the dark scruff of facial hair and the scars beneath his eye and on his lip. He wanted so badly to take a finger to trace the grooves of his horns, and the wine’s grip on him tempted him further. The mage leaned into the surprisingly gentle touch, and allowed Bull to tilt his face up towards him more. Heat pulsed through him as he felt his plump lips press against his own, and immediately he responded in kind. An arm draped around the qunari’s neck to pull himself closer and support himself from nearly falling off the couch from shock. A jolt of desire coursed through the mage, driving him to be more assertive and press closer against his generous torso. A soft noise escaped him, no thanks to the wine, but it was muffled against The Iron Bull’s lips. A hand gripped his hip securely, and he hoisted the smaller mage into his lap. Dorian nearly gasped at the movement, but this was more than fine. In fact, it was all he wanted. His hands wandered to explore the qunari’s torso, and his fingers lingered at the hem of his shirt. Hesitancy kicked in suddenly, and the swimming feeling of blissful intoxication felt like drowning instead. He pulled away somewhat, but remained secure in his lap. Bull took notice and raised a brow, tilting his head to study his face. 

“We can stop,” Bull’s voice felt gruff in comparison to minutes prior, but in a softer way than Dorian expected. It was concern, genuine concern, which caused the mage’s heart to skip. 

“Sorry, I-” Dorian faltered to find the words, unsure if he could continue despite having every urge to do so. All he wanted was to feel that gray toned skin, absorb the warmth and figure out where he could make the bigger man tremble just from a simple touch. A pressure settled in his gut as he sat there, conflicted in front of the man. How embarrassing. He’d rarely choke up like this in front of any other man before, so why now? This wasn’t the first time he’d wound up in some man’s lap before on a first encounter. The qunari bit was different, but even more appealing than anything else. Bull remained silent, but cautious. That hand on the slender hip withdrew and settled to his back, rubbing almost tenderly in small, soothing circles. The benevolent touch felt so off for someone that looked like he could break a log easily over his calf. Dorian noticed his breathing becoming regular once more, and he inhaled deeply through his nose to relax himself further. A random case of nerves then. Relief washed over him, and a tender smile took over his features. 

“Thank you,” The mage leaned back in close as his mind finally eased. “Now, where were we…”

He should have known then that Bull would cause him nothing but trouble since that first night.

Throughout the months, Dorian and Bull shared countless passionate nights together, but that’s all it was. That’s all Dorian wanted. After a couple of months passed, they started to fall into a familiar routine. Once Dorian finished at the tattoo parlor, he’d text Bull and get picked up to go back to Dorian’s place and share their evening together however they wished. Normally their nights were filled with carnal pleasure, but on the occasion, they’d simply enjoy each other’s company. If Dorian needed to work on stencils or design ideas with a client, Bull would remain in the living room with him and just binge watch whatever show he’d been hooked on at the time. He’d order them delivery if the mage was swamped between work and research, or demand Dorian needed a break and massage his shoulders until he relaxed. Things had been fine, more than fine, but that’s when Dorian started to notice the problems. 

It’d been six months in, and Dorian hadn’t seen anyone else. Bull started to stay over at his apartment frequently, more than he was even at his own apartment with Krem. One time Bull even said he’d cook them dinner and get a movie. What was going on? The nights started to get colder, and Dorian looked out the window overlooking the parking lot. The chilled night air caused clouds of fog to escape people’s breath, and he observed others holding hands together as they walked past the building. He sighed heavily, a tightness settling into his chest. The buzzer echoed in the quiet apartment, and he stood up to let him in, but he wasn’t exactly eager to do so. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether or not he really wanted to see him. The tightness spread and his heart quickened as he heard the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs to his door. The mage swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more than to lock the door and pretend he wasn’t home. The familiar squeak of the hinges alerted him that it was too late for that idea. 

“Hey,” Bull unzipped his coat and pulled off his boots, his amiable smile towering over the much smaller human. “You wanted to see me?”

That’s right. Bull probably would have come regardless of him saying anything, but Dorian needed to talk to him. About what? A fleeting moment where he stared blankly at his smile caused him to forget, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from him. 

“We need to talk.”

In that moment, Dorian could see the qunari’s heart drop and his smile disappeared. His brows furrowed then, and he nodded in response. 

“Okay…” He seemed nervous. No, please, anything but that. This had to be done quick and easy, and just get it out of the way. Dorian guided him over to the couch, not offering him a beer like he normally would before. This was harder than he anticipated, and that irked the mage further. It’s not like he had to have this conversation before, but it couldn’t be that difficult. Not like this. Bull was just another man in his life. Simple as that. 

“Bull,” Dorian adjusted himself to sit comfortably on the couch, hoping that maybe that would put his body at ease and he could say this easier. It didn’t help at all. His hands shook a little against his thigh, and he bounced his leg nervously against the hardwood floor. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The qunari’s brows knit together and confusion took over his face. 

“I… What?” 

“It would be easier for both of us if we could end this charade,” Dorian couldn’t look at his face directly. The beat of his racing heart hurt the back of his throat, and he tightened his hands into white-knuckled fists. There, he said it. It was out there, finally. Bull could just go home now and he wouldn’t have to see him again. 

“Why?”

Dorian shot him an incredulous look. Unbelievable. Did he really not immediately grasp the problem? 

“Are you serious?” Dorian scoffed rudely, but his nails dug into the backs of his palms instead. Just go already. The qunari stood up and turned away from him. Dorian noticed those strong shoulders that he admired greatly trembled. “I can’t do something like this…”

A stillness took over the apartment, and the air suddenly became difficult to breathe. How could he not understand something so simple? The qunari weren’t necessarily the brightest, but it was obvious. Absently, he chewed on his lower lip as he waited for Bull to say something, do something. Anything. 

“I’m a fucking moron,” Bull muttered under a breath he’d held onto. Every word he mumbled shook Dorian’s body and the pressure of guilt surrounded him. “And here I was going to ask you if you wanted to…” His voice trailed off. 

“You were going to ask what?” Dorian’s voice became much smaller, but he knew what he wanted to ask. That was the whole point of this conversation.

“You know what,” Bull snapped, turning around to face the smaller mage. “I wanted us to be a thing. An actual thing.” 

Dorian paused, not surprised at all at the response. He deserved the brunt of his anger. 

“And that’s precisely why…” Dorian swallowed thickly, attempting to quell the lump in the back of his throat. “That isn’t something I can do, Bull. I’m not the type of person to just settle down with someone! I can’t do that sort of thing, and I certainly don’t want to try!” 

Without realizing it, Dorian had stood up from the couch, merely steps away from the qunari. He considered just telling him to go so this didn’t have to be harder than it already was, but Bull had already started towards the door. Seeing him take those steps away like that, he wasn’t prepared to see it. His face turned from anger and frustration to anguish and fear. It was a finalization he knew would occur, but to see it actually happen made his chest ache. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late. The door slammed behind the exiting qunari. 

Standing there in the kitchen with Bull back in the apartment made Dorian uneasy, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. The mage sighed and leaned against the granite countertop to look down at his feet. It wasn’t Bull that was the idiot. He was the idiot for letting him go. No one before him ever showed him such consideration. No one ever stuck around long enough to do so. Dorian just accepted he couldn’t be attached for someone too long. They would just walk out anyways, but Bull didn’t. Bull wanted something more, and he was a coward. 

“I’m such a fool,” Dorian sighed shakily, keeping his gaze down against the tile floor. He could feel Bull’s stare against his back, and he carefully looked over his shoulder to meet his eye. “I’m sorry.” 

Bull stood up from the kitchen stool and made his way around the counter to stand in front of him and he replicated that familiar gesture that made his heart pound against his chest. Bull lifted his chin to look at the mage’s face better, and he sighed heavily. Dorian took a step closer and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist, pressing his cheek against the grease riddled shirt. Despite his sturdy frame, his body was similar to a cushion: soft and warm. A shaky sigh escaped him, and a hand balled up the fabric of his shirt. 

“It’s okay,” Bull kept that normally booming voice to a hushed whisper, and Dorian felt his knees tremble at the forgiveness. He paused for a moment and reminisced on all the moments they shared together, focusing mostly on all the strangely domestic lifestyle they lived momentarily. He hated himself for missing something like that, but the memories flooded his dreams and he couldn’t help but yearn for it again. 

“It’s been cold here,” Dorian nearly laughed at his words. How pathetic it felt to crawl back to someone that only treated him with kindness, but turned away by his own insecurities. 

“I could keep you warm,” Bull snorted, probably feeling his response was something cliche and straight out of some romance film. Dorian couldn’t help but chuckle against his chest, drinking in the warmth he emitted. Bull leaned in, shifting the mage away from his chest to tilt his chin back up towards his face. Those lips pressed against Dorian’s eagerly, as if he had wanted to do so the moment he walked in. Knowing the beast, he probably did, but Dorian couldn’t blame him for that. He adjusted his arms to wrap around Bull’s neck, giving in completely and kissing him back softly. He didn’t need to say it. Neither of them did. That’s how he knew he couldn’t let him walk away again. Slowly, he pulled away from the brute and pressed his forehead against the qunari’s. A genuine smile, one he hadn’t given in months, returned to his face as he cupped the scruffed jaw tenderly.

“Please do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like Dragon Age?? SHOCK. SO DO I. I'm certified trash on twitter @sirgilbo Talk to me about these nerds!!


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